Love Stinks
by RubyD
Summary: In his greatest accident yet, Watari has created Love Potion #9. Havoc ensues for our pseudo-mad scientist.
1. Default Chapter

Summary: In his greatest accident yet, Watari has created Love Potion #9. Havoc ensues for our pseudo-mad scientist. Watari x . . . well, do I really have to tell you? It's Yami no Matsuei, EVERYTHING'S possible. High out of character factor.  
  
  
***  
  
Love Stinks  
By RubyD  
  
***  
  
  
There was a meeting in a few minutes, but Watari was still in his lab, carefully measuring out the perfect amount of Chemical Blue (yes, Chemical Blue) to add to the strange smoking vat that contained his ongoing quest for a sex-change formula. The sparkling liquid danced at the end of a hair-thin glass pipette, hanging long enough for the scientist to admire it's perfectly round shape. Only one milliliter, nothing more or less. It fell, merging perfectly in the center of the half-full bowl, leaving beautiful O's in its wake.  
  
003 hooted impatiently, flapping overhead. Was that it? How anti-climatic . . .  
  
Watari peered at the clear liquid, hoping for a bigger reaction. He didn't have to wait for long. The chemicals bubbled and exploded, drenching the Shinigami in the sweet-scented formula and throwing him spectacularly back against a table full of notes. Paper flew everywhere as he wiped his glasses dry.   
  
Well, that was certainly unexpected.   
  
Thankfully, the vat was still intact. Tatsumi didn't have to lecture him on overspending on supplies again.  
  
He looked down at himself, curious. Nope, no change with skin contact. Watari cautiously licked some of the potion off of his lip. It tasted surprisingly bitter, and he gagged. Like old grapefruit. Anything now? No. No change with ingestion. Still a man.  
  
"Another dud, 003," he sighed to the tiny owl. Five hours of pointless preparation. She cooed something sympathetic as he went to the sink where he could wipe off and put on his spare clothes. This happened often, so he had laid out an identical set of lab coats and shirts ahead of time.  
  
The experiment wasn't a total failure, per say. It did blow up quite grandly. Watari changed and washed as much of the chemical off as he could. It wasn't as strong as before, but the smell still lingered on his hair and body. He opened the window to let some of it out.   
  
Almost time for the meeting. He'd have to mop up the room later. The door swung close.  
  
Watari reached the room just as Tsuzuki and Hisoka turned the corner. Their heads were bowed together in some heated discussion. The scientist smiled knowingly. They probably weren't even aware of how... friendly they looked once in a while. He might have to do something about that, eventually.   
  
"Tsuzuki! Bon!" he said. "Right on time."  
  
Hisoka sniffed in interest. "What's that smell?"  
  
"It's kind of sweet." Tsuzuki brightened, probably expecting food.  
  
"Just another experiment that ended badly," he grinned. "Trust me to make perfume instead."  
  
The three entered, finding Konoe and Tatsumi already there, or course. Sitting down, Konoe began describing the assignment in detail. City of Fukuoka, rash of odd deaths and disappearances, solve it and make us proud. Same old. Well, he didn't really say that last part.  
  
As this went on, Watari was trying to think of what he could have done wrong in the experiment. Did he add too much enzymes? No, probably not. Though it could have been the liquid pheromones. Or the Chemical Blue? Perhaps he had not inverted it properly . . .  
  
"Watari?" Tatsumi said. "The meeting's over. We can go now."  
  
He blinked back to awareness, suddenly aware that everyone was gone. They had filed out the exit while he leaned casually back in his chair, and 003 was flying around his head. "Oh, um, sorry." He stood quickly, slightly flustered at his absent-mindedness.   
  
Tatsumi patiently waited at the doorway. As Watari passed, the man suddenly leaned into him and inhaled.  
  
"Ta - Tatsumi?" That was getting a bit close for comfort.  
  
"What *is* that smell?" he answered. "I was trying to figure it out all through the meeting."  
  
"Experiment." The one-worded answer. "Sorry if it bothered you, I tried to wash it off."  
  
"No, no, don't worry. I . . . like it." Then he smiled.   
  
Watari smiled awkwardly in return. "Thank-you."  
  
"You look pale. Did you eat at all today?"  
  
"Ah, no . . . I forgot. Busy with the formula."  
  
"Hmm." Tatsumi turned and straightened his glasses. "Why don't you come over for dinner tonight and we can talk about it?"  
  
"Really?" His eyes brightened. There weren't many opportunities to talk to people about his work in the lab. "Sure, I'll be there!"  
  
The man nodded, seemingly glad. Before departing each other's company, Tatsumi brushed by the scientist's shoulder, inhaling again. "I will see you later," he said without looking back.  
  
"Yeah. Bye . . . "   
  
That was strange.  
  
Watari gave himself a suspicious look, and sniffed.  
  
Could it be . . . ?  
  
***  
  
The leaves rustled.   
  
"Hey, move over!"  
  
"What are *you* doing here?"  
  
"That was going to be my question . . . "  
  
Watari stared at the talking hedges. He had been standing outside Tatsumi's home, about to knock on the front door, when the two familiar voices drifted to him.  
  
"Oh no, does he see us?"  
  
"Shut up, idiot! If it weren't for you stomping all over I'd be fine . . ."  
  
"Wait, why are we here again?"  
  
Watari coughed loudly. "Tsuzuki? Bon? Is that you?"  
  
The noise quieted immediately. Then two pairs of eyes peeked over the top of the hedges, one purple and the other green. The partners stepped out from behind and gave sheepish looks.   
  
"Hi, Watari!" Tsuzuki called cheerily. Then his friend ran up and gave him a giant hug.  
  
"Tsu-Tsuzuki - " He could barely breathe with the strong arms squeezing so tightly. Hisoka saved him by thumping his partner's head and then dragging him off. He gasped. Air. What a wonderful element. "Shouldn't you two be investigating in Fukuoka?"   
  
"W-well, we were just, um, y-you see . . . " Hisoka blushed, face pensive. It wasn't like him to stutter.  
  
"Ahh, didn't you listen?" Tsuzuki grinned. "We don't have to leave until tomorrow. Is Tatsumi making dinner?"  
  
"Yes, he is. Did he invite you, too?"  
  
"Oh, no, don't worry about us! We've already eaten."  
  
"So . . . then why are you here?"   
  
"I . . . I wanted to see you," he confessed.  
  
"Uh . . . huh. Was there a reason?"  
  
Before anyone could answer, the door slammed open and a yellow rose was shoved into Watari's face. Holding it was Tatsumi in a formal black and white suit, hair slicked back and looking sharp and clean.  
  
"I've been expecting you," the man said, gazing intensely at the shorter Shinigami. "How do you like the flower? I just picked it from the garden this afternoon."  
  
"Eh," Watari muttered, a loss for words. What was the matter with everyone today?  
  
Then Tatsumi actually bent down and laid his face into the blonde's hair. "You still smell lovely." The surprised man backed up into Hisoka and Tsuzuki, who each claimed a shoulder to hold. Inexplicably, he felt trapped. What the Hell was going on? All this invasion of personal space . . .  
  
Tatsumi gave the partners one of his trademark looks. "It looks like we have guests. What are you two doing here?"  
  
Hisoka gripped Watari tighter at the tone. "Oh, not much," he responded coolly. "We heard you were making dinner and decided to stop by. Is there any problem with that?"  
  
"Only if Watari does." And then they were all staring at him, Hisoka hopefully, Tsuzuki with puppy eyes, and Tatsumi with lids narrowed. He felt himself shrink under the glowing scrutiny.  
  
"Ah, no," he coughed nervously. "Not at all."  
  
There was a pause. Tatsumi adjusted his glasses and signed with reluctance. "Of course. Forgive me for making you all wait outside. Please, step into my home."  
  
They did, even if Watari was pulled along by Tsuzuki and Hisoka. This was making out to be an interesting evening.  
  
  
TBC  
  
  
***  
  
Notes: Don't wory, it will pick up speed in a little bit... 


	2. Dinner at Tatsumi's

Return! Part duex!  
  
  
***  
  
Love Stinks  
By RubyD  
Part 2  
  
***  
  
  
The house was small but large enough for one person to live comfortably. It was warm and the smells coming from the kitchen were delicious. Tsuzuki's eyes had glazed over, and appeared ready to bolt, though he still kept a firm grasp on Watari's left arm. Hisoka, on his right side, glanced at the flowing ink paintings on the walls as they followed Tatsumi.  
  
There were four chairs around the table, but it was only set for two. Plates and glasses were on opposite ends, and a small bouquet decorated the center. Tatsumi politely offered Watari a seat as the other two stood back, wondering what to do.  
  
"I'll bring out a few more plates," Tatsumi said.  
  
"I'll help bring the food!" Tsuzuki announced.  
  
"I'll lend a hand with that. You might eat it before it gets out here," Hisoka murmured under his breathe.  
  
Watari blinked. "I'll . . . Just stay right here."  
  
"Sure," they chirped, leaving to room. CHIRPED. Watari was starting to think they had contracted a new virus. One that made its victims insane.  
  
Hisoka was the first back. "Would you like some tea, Watari-san?" he offered hesitantly, blushing, and holding a ceramic pot. "Or wine? There's some back there, I could go get it for you, if you'd like . . . " The teen frowned, suddenly distressed.  
  
"No, no, tea's great." Watari waved his hands in front of him with a smile. "Thank-you."  
  
He blushed yet again, nodded, and poured the caramel-colored tea into the cup.   
  
Next Tsuzuki entered, balancing several dishes on his arms and one on his head. He spoke to the scientist with a rapid-fire description of what he brought.  
  
"Look! Look! Here we have fried rice, or plain rice, some perfectly cooked Peking duck, ooh, and on this dish we have an assortment of fresh fruits - kiwi, strawberries, watermelon chunks, mm, oranges and peeled grapes - or do you want some of the soup? With wontons, I recommend . . . And the dumplings! Do you remember them, Hisoka? At that one place with the sake."  
  
Watari gulped nervously as Tsuzuki was starting to lean a bit too far over -  
  
A few random bits of fruit rolled off and dropped onto his sleeves. It wasn't much, yet it caused quite a reaction.  
  
"Be careful, or you'll spill everything on him!" Hisoka seethed, grabbing the food and hastily placing them on the table before any more fell.  
  
"Wai! I'm sorry!" Tsuzuki gasped, and leapt at Watari with a napkin, intent on cleaning him up. He rubbed the areas that the fruits had fallen on, and picked up the scraps.  
  
"No, you're not doing it right," Hisoka said, taking up a second napkin and nearly attacking the flabbergasted Shinigami with it. "You're smearing it! You're smearing it! That's wrong!"  
  
"I'm trying! Quit being so mean!"  
  
Watari found himself being frantically swabbed and pampered over like an invalid, and the napkins were wiping at places other than his sleeves. They mobbed his chest and face, scrubbing at invisible specks of juice, and when their hands began to trail a little too low -   
  
"Stop! No! That's okay!" He shoved them away, attempting to free himself from the madmen. Flattered as he was by their attention, this was getting scary. "I'm fine! No worries, I'm clean!"  
  
Hisoka stepped back and tilted his chin at the sitting man. "So do you want us to serve you right now?"  
  
A pause. "What?"   
  
"Serve you the food, how about it?"  
  
"Oh! Right . . . Ah, I think I'll wait for Tatsumi first. He is the host . . . "  
  
"I didn't know you cared," came the voice from the kitchen. Tatsumi entered with a benevolent smile, holding two more sets of tableware. "I heard shouting. Was there something wrong?"  
  
Hisoka rolled his eyes. "Tsuzuki dropped some grapes on Watari-san."  
  
"Really?" Abra kadabra, a small piece of cloth appeared in hand. "How unfortunate. Are you all right? Do you need a towel?"  
  
"No!" Watari shouted. Then, in a more normal tone, he added, "No, I don't need a towel. I'm good, really, you don't have to worry so much. Thank-you for the concern."  
  
"Are you sure?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Fair enough." He placed the extra plates on the table. "Tsuzuki-san, Kurosaki-kun, if you're still hungry please feel free to eat something."  
  
"Hai," they answered, and sat down.  
  
"So what would you like, Watari?"  
  
" . . . I'll have some of the duck, please . . . "  
  
***  
  
The actual dinner was just as eventful. When Watari finished something Tatsumi and Tsuzuki would quickly shove another item on to the plate, and after every time he drank his tea Hisoka would offer a napkin. Then the trio started fussing more and more as the hour continued. Did you like the soup? Have some more, Watari. Are the lights too bright? Is it too cold? Hot? Look, Watari-san, you got something in your hair, let me get it out. Are you going to eat that? Can I have it? Are you allergic to anything? Do you want a napkin?  
  
It got so that he stopped eating entirely, too annoyed with the commotion they were causing.  
  
"Would you all just please calm down?" he snapped irritably. And, without skipping a beat, they all began apologizing profusely at the sighing man. What did he do to deserve this?  
  
He laughed nervously to himself. Oh, wait . . .  
  
The potion. It had to be. What else could be causing such odd behavior? Airborne . . . And what exactly was it doing to his friends? Watari planned to investigate the matter as soon as he got back to the lab. The answer was in the notes, somewhere. He'd have to find it.  
  
If he survived through dinner, that was. And without throttling anyone.  
  
The food disappeared, courtesy of Tsuzuki, and there were dishes to be washed. Since it would be unfair for Tatsumi to clean right after cooking so much, and as an excuse to get away for a moment, Watari volunteered to do it.  
  
"No, you're the guest. Please, I'm sure Tsuzuki-san and Kurosaki-kun would be glad to help, instead."  
  
"Really? Are you fine with that?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Hey, aren't we guests, too?" Tsuzuki complained.   
  
"Did you say something?" Tatsumi pushed up his glasses, giving the Shinigami a hard stare.  
  
"N - nothing."  
  
Hisoka didn't comment and simply started picking up the silverware. There would be other more worthwhile battles to be fought. Soon the three had gathered all the glass and china and marched off into the kitchen.  
  
Watari seriously pondered just leaving right then. Escape was only a few meters away . . . but that would be rude, and in their state of mind, he wasn't sure if that was a grand idea. He opted to drum the table anxiously.   
  
A muffled crash echoed from the other room. Hushed voices followed, arguing. The scientist glanced worriedly at the wooden door, wondering what was happening. Another clatter, this time a plate hitting something but not breaking. More infuriated whispering.  
  
He became curious, and decided to quietly peek into the doorway. Shuffling over, he opened it a crack.   
  
"What is the matter with you?" Hisoka said, crossly pointing a rinsed fork at the two men. "You two are . . . *stuck* on him. And you were annoying him. I've been sensing it for the last hour."  
  
"That's funny, Kurosaki-kun," Tatsumi retorted. "You kept wiping his face. He's not a child, you know."  
  
"Well *you* keep looking at him funny," Tsuzuki added, drying dishes. Then he held it up to shield himself from Tatsumi. "Scary eyes! Stop!"  
  
"Admit it, you all want Watari-san," Hisoka announced.  
  
What? The Shinigami at the door suffered a mild shock.  
  
"The same can be said about you, Kurosaki-kun."  
  
The teen blushed tomato.  
  
What?! Ooh, up to a heart-attack.  
  
Tatsumi coughed. "I propose a new strategy: every man for himself. Whoever can win Watari over deserves him. Use any means necessary. Agreed?"  
  
"Agreed," Tsuzuki and Hisoka murmured.  
  
Oh my God, kill me now. . . if I weren't already dead, that is. . .   
  
"We should go check on him. It's been a while." The violet-eyed man put down his rag and approached the door.  
  
Watari stumbled back in panic, tripping and falling over a chair. "Yaaaaah - !" he cried. Out! He needed to get out! Flee, flee! These people were crazy!  
  
"Wa-Watari! Are you hurt?!" Tsuzuki knelt over the fallen man, eyes wide. Then, in a change of moods, he leaned directly over the blonde's face, expression soft. "Do you want me to kiss it and make it all better?" Oh my, aggressive. His mouth inched ever closer and closer.  
  
"Noo! Get away from me!" Watari struggled, and jerked away. He scrambled to his feet, shaking, finding Hisoka and Tatsumi watching from the kitchen doorway. "I - I just need some fresh air! EXCUSE ME!!"  
  
The scientist flew out of the house before anyone could stop him.  
  
  
TBC   
  
  
***  
  
Notes: What is this "WAFF" thing? And thank-you for the lovely support. 


	3. Attack of the Empath

***  
  
Love Stinks  
By RubyD  
Part 3  
  
***  
  
He could hardly believe what he just heard. Dear lord. They *wanted* him? This was bad . . . Or good. Depending on how everything was going to turn out. But right at that moment it was damn terrifying. He'd better lock the lab door behind him.  
  
The street lights were just beginning to turn on, and the air was refreshingly open. Watari ran all the way back to his lab, dark green coat whipping in the wind. It wasn't that far. Though he figured teleporting or flying would have been quicker, the scientist was too unnerved to take the energy to focus hard enough. Which was saying a lot, since he *liked* flying. Loved it. Who wouldn't? Except it required a clear mind.  
  
003 greeted him at the door, flailing as he brushed past her and dove into his notes. The papers were in chaotically strewn throughout the room, having been on the table the experiment helped in knocking over. Watari sighed in frustration - he'd be searching for hours.   
  
And there was cleaning to do. The now sickeningly-sweet smell of the chemicals were as strong as ever, having to simmer all day and filling the lab.  
  
He grabbed a bucket and mop from the closet. If just a tiny whiff of the formula caused such an effect in Tsuzuki, Hisoka, and Tatsumi, the thought of someone inhaling all the fumes while he was in the room was not appealing. Better open all the windows, too.  
  
The tiny owl, confused by her companion's odd the behavior, settled onto his head while he played janitor. Honestly, humans were so quirky.   
  
Watari, on his part, noted that 003 wasn't acting any differently. Perhaps it didn't work on birds. No matter, he was glad - an amorous owl would just be strange. Amorous, what a word. Was it French? Probably. They always had fun words. Like fromage. And poupon.   
  
"I'll give you a treat later," he said.   
  
003 cooed. Quirky he was, but kind.  
  
As he cracked down on the spilled potion, he went over several pages of notes. A lot of it didn't have any pertinent information - actually, most of the papers contained doodles. There was not much to do while having something boil and stew for an hour. Many, many doodles, though ones he'd never imbue *life* into. Ohoho! Why, look, there was the drawing of him accepting the award for the Best Chemist in the Known Universes from a squiggly Tatsumi. Chicken scratches, really. A child could have had pulled it off with more panache. In spite of it being so stick-figurey, it'd be a fantastic reality. Hee, hee.   
  
Sigh . . .   
  
There he went again, daydreaming and backtracking and all when he should be finding the exact cause for the problems he'd created - and then figure out a cure. No time to waste! Soon, the lab was dry again and papers were in a pile on his computer. Watari kept a closed test-tube full of the formula for future reference, but dumped the rest and watched as it protested and bubbled noisily down the sink drain. Good. Now there was only the smell to contend with, which seemed to have permanently affixed itself to his skin. Damn.  
  
He went over to the papers and sat down. Numbers and equations filled up half of the more useful pages, and notes took up the other. He scanned quickly through them, looking for the most current ones. Restoration of the cell structure after burns. The effects of prolonged exposure to the cold on a Shinigami. Jottings about curses and anti-curses and magic. No, none of these.  
  
Ah, here it was. Experiments: gender-switching formula, take nine. Watari greedily ran through the steps in the data. Oh dear, what was that smudge on the list of chemicals needed?  
  
Shit.  
  
It was the enzymes of a moth. He's put too much in. About ten times the amount called for, because of a misplaced decimal point. That had reacted with the pheromones, which in turned ionized the Chemical Blue -   
  
To put it in Layman's Term; he'd created a -   
  
A -   
  
A love potion!   
  
This . . .   
  
This was wonderful! It worked so well, too! This was the salvation of all the love-less people in the world who gazed at the object of their affections from afar! The perfume of the Gods! Think of all the possibilities that would arise - long lines of stores carrying beautiful bottles of pink liquid with only a drop of the potion. He even had a name for the product!   
  
"The Freddy-kun!" Watari shouted, almost dancing.  
  
003 hooted at her manic partner. Steady there!  
  
And then Watari stopped, the realization that he had exposed his *co-workers* to the potion hitting home. That added new questions: did the effects of the potion fade? Or was it permanent? Love makes you wacky. Maybe he should be taking advantage of this. He had been meaning to ask Tatsumi for more supplies -   
  
No, that would be abusing power. These were his friends, for goodness's sake. And he had a suspicious feeling of what Tatsumi would ask in return.  
  
Watari would have to make some anti-love potion. He had all night to work on it, at least, and no one would bother him, hopefully . . .   
  
. . . But first, a shower! Got to get the smell off.  
  
There was a small area in the back of the lab that he had converted into his own bathroom. The modified shower was one of those emergency ones all science rooms had in case of, oh, acid, chemical spills, fire . . . Pull a lever and the water would start. Watari had added the ducky-print curtains and towel rack later on.  
  
The scientist found yet another spare set of clothes (he had a lot of those) and arranged them on a chair. Then he stripped off his garments and stepped in. The warm water poured with a hiss, and he covered himself with soap and shampoo, scrubbing furiously. Hopefully, the potion came off.  
  
So intent on getting rid of the smell was he that he didn't notice the shadowy figure looming up beside the curtains.   
  
"Hello, Watari-san," the figure said.  
  
Watari jerked his neck around, screamed, and stumbled back. He grabbed the curtains, which were weak, and it fell around him. The shower was still running. Fighting the cheap plastic, the blonde sat up and stared.  
  
"Bon?!" he gasped, keeping the curtains around his waist and standing. "How did you get in?" He had locked the door, didn't he?   
  
Hisoka was blushing hard enough to hail a cab as he looked on the Shinigami. "I climbed in through the window. Did I disturb you?"  
  
"I'm taking a shower! What do you think?!" Why? Oh why? He found his clothes and held them protectively against his chest. "Do you mind? I need to put these on . . . "  
  
"Not at all, go ahead and change." Hisoka remained facing him.  
  
"I mean, could you turn around?" Please, oh please. Being nude normally didn't bother him, but this was hardly normal.  
  
The teen made a sound of "Ahh . . . " but politely did as he was asked. Right, polite. As if interrupting someone in the shower was considered the epitome of a well-mannered person. "I'm sorry about what happened at Tatsumi-san's house," he said without looking back.  
  
"Um, you don't have to apologize," Watari said as he struggled to put on his boxers and pants. The dark brown shirt slipped over his wet hair, blocking him momentarily from sight. But when the collar came down, he found Hisoka only inches from his face.  
  
"Oh, but I want to," he said softly and, Watari was alarmed to think, seductively.   
  
"That's okay - "  
  
Small hands placed themselves on his chest, pushing. The scientist was backed up into a wall, the cool stone unyielding. "I'm *very* sorry."  
  
"This isn't you, you're not like this - "  
  
"I know," he said. "I know I've been cold, and stand-offish in the past; I know that I can be too distant sometimes, but that's just me. I really am sorry for that." His thin hands trailed around until he was hugging the man.  
  
His heart pounded nervously onwards. This is so wrong. "Ah, Hisoka - "  
  
"You said my name." The young Shinigami's emerald eyes were shining with happiness. "Does than mean you think of me as an equal, Watari?" He rested his cheek on him, sighing deeply. Sniff, sniff.  
  
Damn, the scent was still strong. It didn't wash off! He wanted to cry.  
  
"I don't know what's come over me, lately - "  
  
"Oh, I do," Watari muttered.   
  
"But all I know is that I really like you. I want you."  
  
He bolted, running straight for the door in outright panic. Hisoka was a great kid and all but . . . no. No, no, no, no, no! Unfortunately, the "kid" had amazing speed and tackled the escaping scientist, sprawling them both on the floor. The teen quickly rolled him over and straddled his torso.  
  
"Don't be afraid," Hisoka whispered, giving a wicked smile, tracing the blonde's chin. "I don't really know what I'm doing but . . . "  
  
Think, Watari, think, find a way out of this . . . "003! Help!"  
  
In a fury of feathers the owl began attacking Hisoka's hair. 003 shrieked and scratched his scalp, digging in with her tiny talons. The teen waved his arms, trying to get at the bird. Watari took this opportunity to heave the boy off of him and rush to his feet.  
  
The lock, the lock, just unlock the damned door! He fumbled with the knob, cold fingers finally opening the exit.  
  
"Watari, wait!"  
  
He didn't answer, and scurried out.   
  
"Damn it."  
  
  
TBC  
  
  
  
***  
  
Notes: My, this involves a lot of running . . . this chapter is strange.  
Do you have any Grey Poupon? I miss that commercial.  
"Fromage" is French for cheese. Was there a point? No. I happen to like cheese.  
  
Oh, and this little idea popped into my brain while writing this chapter. Since I have no where else to put it, I'm tacking it along on here. It has no grammar or structure whatsoever.  
  
In case you didn't know, 003 is a girl. A GIRL. I think. Maybe.  
  
*  
  
Agent Double-Oh-Three: There's No Tomorrow When You're Dead  
A Side Story  
By RubyD  
  
Why does everyone keep insisting that Watari doesn't have a partner? Sure, he doesn't go out into the field all that much, nor does he have to since he's everyone's doctor, but when they do think up a mission they send that - that THING along with us. Goushoshin. *I'm* Watari's partner! Not you! I don't think you're really even a BIRD. You wear clothes, for God's sake, clothes! Do you know how silly that looks, when you have perfectly adequate feathers? Do you? Huh? HUH?  
  
Anyway, I'll say it again. I am Watari's partner. Who else can it be? I'm with him constantly, wake him up in the morning, bug him when he hasn't left for a meeting, and actually listens to him. None of you know how great he is, how experimenting in his lab gives such an utter and sheer joy when he's created something. He's quite a smart man. It makes me happy to see him happy.   
  
Oh dear, another meeting. Come on Watari, it's time to go! I flap and flap and flap, making owlish whistles towards the door. He looks up from his book of notes and sees the clock. He puts the papers down and leaves with me on his shoulder. Really, what would he do without me?  
  
The meeting is boring, of course. Green and Purple Eyes are there. The Boss. Tatsumi and the anthropomorphic ducks. Unlike my partner's voice, I don't pick up the other's speech all too well, but I'll try to translate what I think they said.  
  
Tatsumi: "There is a problem. Spirits wandering. Go, save them, Watari."  
  
Everyone else: "My hero."  
  
At least, that was the gist of it.  
  
Tatsumi: "And take the chicken with you."  
  
The red-hat Goushoshin bows.  
  
WHAT?!  
  
Green Eyes looks at me as I circle above Tatsumi's head. That boy senses too much. Right now I'm pondering if I should let one go - you know what *that* means, right? But I can't. Watari's right there, and I don't want to embarrass him in front of everyone. I'll have my revenge later.  
  
The meeting ends. They all exit, and I trail behind. But fortunately, so does Goushoshin. No one's watching.  
  
So I sneak up behind it and . . .   
  
Kamikaze owl deployed!  
  
DIVE BOMB!!!  
  
"SCREEEECH!"  
  
"Waaaaahhh!" it screams down the hall, going the opposite way from the group. Idiot.  
  
He's my partner! Stay away! Stay away! I'll kill you if you go anywhere near him!  
  
How undignified. Look at it, squawking and fluttering around in terror as I give chase. Don't you have a vertebrae? And Tatsumi sent THAT along with my Watari? How insulting. I peck at it and peck at it until we're both outside. Hah, take that! It cowers under a tree branch, just staring at me.  
  
"Please don't hurt meeee!" it cries.  
  
Wimp, I hoot as I fly away. That'll teach you.  
  
I'm Watari's partner. Remember that next time.  
  
  
The End  
  
*  
  
Note2: The story didn't really have anything to do with James Bond, did it? Ah, c'est la vie. 


	4. Eat Smart, Food Kills

An exercise in rhetoric.   
  
***  
  
Love Stinks  
By RubyD  
Part 4: Eat Smart, Food Kills  
  
***  
  
He hoped 003 was okay. Probably. She was a fiery little owl.  
  
This was worse than he thought. Sure, he had always liked a little attention, but this was ridiculous. And *Bon* had put the moves on *him.* As funny as it was going to be later, a riot really, it was presently a trauma to the system. And Hisoka was absolutely going to go homicidal when this was all over.  
  
When it was? Try if. He had to return to the lab later if there was a chance to fix things.   
  
The gray halls were as deserted as a graveyard, being late, thank God. Watari was allowed to flee full speed through the building like a mad Gushoshin without fear of spreading his pheromones to every single damned bystander having a bagel. Left, right, right, up the stairs. He randomly turned corners and debated if he could actually escape an empath. Did Hisoka have a sensory range? How far? Should have done more tests on him. This was a bad day to find out, and the kid was already enough of a bloodhound.  
  
So, back to running. Though heavily panting and out of breath, he wondered if he should have joined a marathon when he was alive. Go, Speed Watari, go!  
  
Someplace to hide. Look around, look around, breathe, back up. Here? Here. Breathe.  
  
He nearly ran into the door. Watari had ended up in the cafeteria. Quickly slipping in, he noisily barricaded the entrance with tables and chairs. The scientist looked around, seeing if there were anything else to throw together. There were several more tables on the other side of the large and dark room, and with only a small pause he leapt under one and surrounded himself with chairs. He gripped the wood and stared into the gloom, wide-eyed and paranoid. Maybe no one would find him until morning.   
  
He wondered where Tsuzuki and Tatsumi were. Perhaps they had recognized their irrational thinking and feelings and were trying to leave him alone? Possibly Hisoka's smaller body had allowed the potion to give a greater impact on the teen's system. Would metabolism eventually have the formula wear out? In that case, he should stay away from them as long as he could.  
  
Glancing around, Watari felt more relaxed. The back windows were shut to the midnight air, the serving port was closed and kitchen dark, and the main entrance fortified like Hell. A small sanctuary for the time.  
  
Tomorrow Tsuzuki and Hisoka would be gone on their mission, and he'd only have Tatsumi to deal with before working in the lab. Not too bad. Really good. Watari sighed and closed his eyes. Now to rest a bit.   
  
***  
  
Cue the irrelevant dream sequence.  
  
In this dream Watari was wearing a frilly little burgundy dress all mocked up with girlish lace and ribbons. He sat smiling on top of an emerald hill in the middle of an endless forest of cherry trees in bloom. The sea of pink melted into the sparkling blue sky in little blobs of color like a Monet painting. Idly spinning an umbrella that matched his costume he watched as petals flew a little too beautifully through the air. In reality they would simply flutter to the ground, but these things were sakura on speed by the way they waltzed and danced with the wind.  
  
There was an apple in his hand. Just as everything else it was Technicolor bright and perfectly smooth. Yummy looking. And it smelled fantastic. Drawing it slowly into his mouth, he took a salacious bite.   
  
Chew, chew, chew.  
  
Spit.  
  
Damn, was it awful! Why was it so bitter? Watari gagged and wiped his lips on a sleeve. Mother nature was horribly unfair. He stared at the white "o" he had created, marveling at the lack of sugary goodness - and then screamed like a girly uke as three worms popped out. It would have been fine if they were ordinary worms, but, oh no, these worms had the miniature heads of Hisoka, Tsuzuki, and Tatsumi attached to them.  
  
"hi watari!" they chirped in their tiny voices. CHIRPED. Not this again.  
  
"you look lovely," added Tatsumi.  
  
"Thanks . . . wait, what happened to you guys?!" he shouted, horrified. He held the apple with both hands. His friends smiled happily up at him.  
  
"what do you mean?" Hisoka asked.  
  
"You're worms!"  
  
"oh, yeah," Tsuzuki said, noticing for the first time. "it had to happen eventually. want to join? this apple is delicious."  
  
"That's a no." He blanched. "Come on, I need to turn you three back!" The dress rustled as he stood, running towards his lab. The door appeared in thin air several yards away, unconnected to anything.  
  
"that's all right," Tatsumi called. "this doesn't bother us."  
  
"But it bothers ME. How'd this happen?"  
  
Tsuzuki burped. "I may have eaten something bad . . . "  
  
"maybe it was just your cooking," Hisoka offered with a smirk.  
  
"oh yeah?"  
  
"yeah!" They bickered, tinny shrill annoying voices squeaking like rusted hinges.   
  
"silence!" ordered Tatsumi, ducking back into the apple. "any damage to my eardrums will be taken out of your salary!"  
  
"it's just going to heal right away," Tsuzuki said.  
  
"heal this!" Hisoka cried as he tackled the Tsuzuki-worm. They bumped into Tatsumi, and all three rolled into a squirming ball, falling to the ground.  
  
Watari didn't notice as he stepped through the door. What's this? The other side was definitely not his lab, and instead of a dress, he was wearing heavy gold armor and riding a white stallion. 003 swooped low, leading his gaze to the immense palace before him. It was grown over in rose vines and weeds, and the stone had darkened into a muddy brown. Towers jutted like rotted teeth, and at the top of the tallest spiral was a little window where a head of silver hair and a handkerchief waved to him.   
  
He took a moment to add everything together. Knight in shining armor? Terribly undertaken castle and garden? Maiden in distress? This looks like a job for Super Watari!  
  
"I'll save you!" he cried, galloping through the open gates, long white cape beating in the breeze.  
  
Suddenly three figures in green, purple, and blue stopped him at the base of the tower. They were his pages, again played by Hisoka, Tsuzuki, and Tatsumi.  
  
"No, sire, you must not!" Hisoka begged, hand outstretched to block him.  
  
Tsuzuki had sprouted furry ears, paws, and a tail. "You could get hurt!"  
  
"I agree, it's much too dangerous!" Tatsumi said harshly.   
  
"But I'm a knight!" Watari protested, leaping off his mount. "I must do what I have to do. Out of my way! Bonzai!"  
  
"But what about the guardian of the tower?" Hisoka protested.  
  
"What guardian?  
  
Then a black lion pounced from the shadows and roared, scattering the screaming three pages. They ducked into the shrubbery, staring timidly at the feline, as if waiting for it to attack. But instead, it bounded away without a pause, allowing Watari the right to march in. Well, that was convenient.   
  
Inside, the stairs loomed into the dark, looking as if they went on forever. With a sigh he ascended, following the striking war murals on the walls until the colors faded gray into each other. Up, and up. He ran for the devil knows how long, yet wasn't even out of breath when he finally touched the top step. A pair of doors eased open, beckoning him in.   
  
The knight entered cautiously.  
  
"Hello? Is anyone home?" No one. Except for a lonely window, the room was empty. Ah, what a waste of time.   
  
There was a flash of pale hair at the corner of his vision, shooting past and into the staircase. The doors slammed shut and locked.  
  
"Hey!" Watari yelled, leaving dents in the wood with his fist. "Let me out!"  
  
Everything began to feel warm. Smoke seeped through the frame in ghostly wisps. Fire!  
  
"Hell," he muttered, dashing to the window. On the ground the three had gathered again and were waving. "Help!"  
  
"I'm coming!" Tatsumi cried in answer.  
  
Tsuzuki stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. "No, I will! I have more strength."  
  
"Shut up you blockheads, I'll do it!" Hisoka tried to pass them but they pulled him back. They jabbed and slapped and hit each other, fighting to be the one to rescue their knight. It quickly turned into a messy brawl, hair and blood flying all over. The black lion reappeared and joined merrily in.  
  
"Great, I get the Three Stooges to save me," he coughed. There was smoke everywhere, filling the room, filling his lungs. He could feel the heat coming closer, the fire probably right outside the door, probably burning and creeping into the too small room with the too small window. He couldn't breathe it was suffocating and there was no air oh God oh God. He wanted air his eyes were watering crying the armor was too tight squeezing and he needed air RIGHT NOW -   
  
***  
  
Coughing and gasping, the blonde awoke to someone frantically fanning his face.  
  
"Watari! Watari!" the man was shouting. The cafeteria was blurry from smoke.  
  
"Tsuzuki!" he choked, seeing the Shinigami's face waver into his teary vision.  
  
"Come on, this way - " Tsuzuki declared, dragging the scientist up and out of the room. The entrance had been miraculously cleared of the former chairs and tables. They both stumbled into the hall, wheezing.  
  
"What hell happened in there?" Watari finally managed to utter, leaning heavily against the opposite wall. An enveloping pair of arms suddenly attacked him and affixed themselves steadfastly to his chest.  
  
"I'm sorry!" he wailed, tears streaming in large gushes. "I found you, and I was feeling so bad about your dinner since you didn't eat anything and I know if I was hungry I'd be really unhappy too so I-got-Byakko-to-help-me-open-the-door-youweresotiredyoudidn'tnoticeandIsnuckintothekitchenandthenandthenandthen - "  
  
"Hold on!" Watari felt the beginnings of a massive headache approaching. Also, his shirt was wet. Not the most enjoyable of combinations. "What exactly did you do?"  
  
He blushed. "I cooked. It sort of caught fire."  
  
"Oh dear God."  
  
"But I put it out! And disabled the alarm so it wouldn't wake anyone - it's late, you know? The sun's not up - but the food turned out all right . . . " Tsuzuki smacked himself, dismayed. "The food! I LEFT IT BEHIND!!" The man dashed back in, leaving a slightly startled scientist staring after him.   
  
" . . . "  
  
He returned seconds later, proudly holding a steaming plate of . . . something. A deflated dessert. Bowing, he presented it and a fork. It certainly didn't look bad - but Watari knew better.  
  
"What is it?" he asked suspiciously.  
  
"Apple pie - Wa-Watari??" Tsuzuki looked around, feeling a gust of wind, and finding no one.  
  
The only trace left of the man were a few blonde hairs floating to the ground.  
  
  
TBC  
  
  
***  
  
Notes: These things are getting fairly more and more pointless as time goes on. *sweatdrops*  
Any questions? I feel like I left something out . . . (Like a plot?) Hush, brain. 


End file.
